


I am here

by guacamole_crumbs



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, Armie’s broadway debut, Confessions(sort of), Eventual Smut, F/M, I don’t mind Liz but sacrifices have to be made, M/M, Timmy in New York, lies and lies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 22:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15058910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guacamole_crumbs/pseuds/guacamole_crumbs
Summary: Timmy visits Armie in New York. Things get Angsty. (Also, Armie is drunk af!)





	1. Chapter 1

The door clicked shut behind him as he stepped into the hotel suite booked for him by his agent in New York. He hardly acknowledged his surroundings before dropping onto the king size bed, not bothering to take off his shoes and entered into a solely craved slumber.  
Armie sighed as a wisp of cool air trickled in through the window of the grandeur balcony attached to the the equally grandeur bedroom. His hotel suite was a piece of art, only if he noticed. The cheap booze was working it’s way through his system, rendering him senseless even in the makeshift sleep he was trying to catch. Suddenly, his body was on fire and sweat was dripping down his back. His mouth tasted like sandpaper, cigarettes and something utterly nasty. Armie didn’t have the time to decide where to throw up as the bile in his throat sloshed and squelched. Within a couple of seconds, there was vomit all over the vintage Vogue carpet designed during the era of the Queens’.  
“Fuck it!” Armie groaned as another wave of nausea hit him like blocks of brick.  
“No, no, no, no-” He puked out all of the alcohol, the stale joints and the little burrito shit he had had through the help of the bartender he didn’t remember the name of. The air conditioner hardly hid the stink that penetrated the room besides the physical state of it. Armie stumbled his way into the bathroom, looking for a pair of wash rugs to clean the mess he had so unwillingly made.  
He couldn’t think of ringing the housekeeping because the state that he was in, was enough of an embarrassment. He didn’t want tabloids flashing his name first thing in the morning with their regular first base negotiations.  
After he had done the cleaning, he shot up the temperature of the air conditioner and undressed as stealthily as he could. His hands trembled agitatedly fast while he was trying to unbutton his peach cream shirt he had worn like fifteen times already. Only until his wife found out.  
After deeming the room presentable enough, he landed onto the bed and dozed off almost immediately. Whereas the bed lamp, it continued to shone his shadow to the other dark world. Into the abyss, it reckoned.  
   
   
The music in the bar was thumping through the walls, a static candor in the air, the air that reeked of nothing but the usual human stench, alcohol buzz and the obnoxious odour emanating off of the bathroom nearby with a door that fell apart as soon as you touched it. Figures.  
Obnoxious, as it was.  
Armie sat at one of the barstools in the far corner of the bar, a worn out Jean cap hoisted over his head, doing nothing much to obscure his face and height. The cap reminded him of LA and his family. His children. God, how desperately did he miss his children!  
But also, of people he didn’t want to think about.  
So he buried himself headfirst into whatever booze the bartender guy was selling, voluntarily banishing the thought of the warm alabaster skin against his own golden one, the brown mop of curls he loved to tug on almost unnecessarily, the curve of the mouth as a smile overtook it and the ache in his heart when he was at the receiving end of it.  
He was halfway into the alcohol coma when he felt the skin against his thigh vibrating ominously. He snickered at the fact that it was after all, his wife calling him. He didn’t even have to check his caller ID.  
It reflected how much he loved her.  
He loved her so much that he dreaded picking up the fucking phone. In lieu of doing exactly that, he knocked back the glass of scotch into his mouth, gulped, groaned at the sting in his throat and pulled his phone out of his pocket.  
Elizabeth.  
Rolling his eyes, he shoved the phone to his ear.  
“Hey baby.”  
“Hello there husband. You sound tired. Why are you up so late?”  
He rubbed his eyes, feeling tired as soon as the word left her mouth.  
“Umm, I am not at the hotel yet. Ran into some dudes and now they are offering me dinner.” He knew she wouldn’t suspect considering the amount of noise the background supplied.  
He heard her breathing and then some muttering in the back.  
“That sounds great husband! Well guess what?! Me and the kids are visiting you next week! Hops is dying to see her daddy, aren’t you Hops?” He heard Harper wailing in the background with an unmistakable toothy accent she had barely begun to catch.  
“Daddy, we are coming! We are coming!” Then their was a shriek and a plathora of ambiguous sounds and suddenly, as if surfacing up for air, Liz spoke, “ I heard Timmy is in the city.”  
Up until the last statement, Armie was quite literally thanking the heavens that he would be able to see his children again. Tears had sprung up in his eyes. He couldn’t be any more happier even if it hadn’t been a month since he last saw them, all of them.  
He knew that he’d make it through despite Elizabeth being here. He almost realised that he’d try harder. Make this work.  
But the thing was, she had half to no idea what he thought about.  
His world seemed brighter until she mentioned Timmy. There was a lump in his throat. He croaked out, “ Oh, he is here?”  
There was a stretch of silence as he felt time skidding by.  
“Its all over the internet. Some people are also speculating that he ditched his suffocatingly tight schedule and London just to come see you.”  
Whoa, he didn’t miss the sharp edge in her tone. His breath faltered and he felt an impending headache. The alcohol was taking its toll.  
But then, was it the alcohol?  
He feigned nonchalance, “Well, people talk right? I mean, its his home. He can visit whenever he wishes to.”  
It was tough. Acting was tough. The thought that Timmy was right here, probably in the next bar itself gave Armie chills. He shook away the carnal urge of locating Tim down and shouting out loud to the world and him, that he missed him.  
He missed him. God, how he missed him!  
“Yeah I know that but—  
“Liz, we are not going to bother about other people. Now tell me, how are you? Nick said you got your nose punctured!” He laughed . It felt good. Really good.  
His statement was enough to get her head out of the dark corner of his life which she worried, might exist.  
Except Armie knew that it did. It did exist.  
By the time he Hung up, the music in the bar had taken a different turn. The thumping in his head matched that of the song barking off of the speakers. His mind roared with assumptions, chances, moves, anything he could do to meet him.  
The music picked up beat, the glare on the dance floor increased, the throng of people suddenly melted into each other and bent postures at ninety. What was happening?  
Armie jerked his head, trying to clear his vision but as he looked again, everything just got messier and indecipherable.  
All he could feel was the upturned beat of the music which kept on escalating, the heat skimming his skin reaching his eyes, dripping down his lashes, a burning sensation seizing him and him crying out!

 

“No!”  
He pulled back to reality, coughing vigorously as if to let out something stuck in his throat.  
He was covered with a sheen of sweat and his hands trembled. He felt like he was going to die.  
He reprimanded himself, tried to calm down, remembered doing it for the kids.  
Nothing helped. In fact, everything just got worse. Lets be pragmatic Armie. Don’t be a fucking pussy!  
“I know, I know, I know....”  
He sat up and inclined his back against the head rest. Everything was fuzzy. He could hardly remember anything except the dream which crumbled his patience, all at once. His breathing got heavier.  
Remorse and self-loathing took a hold of him and squeezed his heart out of his chest.  
Armie was sure he was going to die.  
But then...  
Something flickered in his peripheral vision. He looked up into the sheer dark lit only by the beside lamp but the dark was not dark enough to hide who had entered his room.  
There was no mistaking who it was.  
“Armie?”  
His blood ran cold. His heart froze, his hands and legs went numb. Armie was nothing at that moment. Just a mirage of a human being. Barely a bunch of molecules wounded together. That’s it. That’s all he was.  
It was as if he had lost his voice. His soul.  
But then he whispered, “Timmy?”  
There, standing at the edge of the bed, in all his glory was Timothẽe. The light from the lamp casted a shadow down on him, turning him into a fallen angel. Before him, there was nothing but plenty of black.  
And then, he smiled, “ Hey buddy!”  
Armie resurfaced from the temporary coma. His heart throbbed inside his chest, begging his pardon and fuelled his body with all the blood that he could ever own.  
His voice trembled as he spoke, “How did you get in?”  
At that, Timothẽe laughed. All teeth and tongue. Armie didn’t miss the surge with which his body rocked back and his hands waved forward, like a sailing ship.  
He was as fragile as he looked, Armie remembered.  
“You left the door open.” He stated, matter of fact.  
Armie pushed himself to remember, the skin between his eyebrows shrivelling up.  
“I did?” He looked around at all the mess he had made,fortunately the room didn’t smell like rat shit.  
“Haha, yeah!” Timmy walked towards him, smiling like he always did and sat down on the bed before Armie, exactly where his feet ended. It was then when he realised that he was naked besides the underwear. Timothẽe seemed to have a hard time trying to maintain decent eye contact. His cheeks tinged pink in the yellow of the obnoxious hotel room. Armie felt heat pooling in his stomach and knew that he had to get dressed before shit hit the fan.  
“Uhh...I better put on some clothes.” Armie scrambled across the bed for his shirt and pants which he had earlier tossed around somewhere and put them on as quickly as he could. Whereas Timmy, he looked off into the other corner, giving Armie the space.  
Armie couldn’t look away from him. Timothẽe’s hair had grown, curving and curling under his eye, almost touching the nape of his neck. Apparently, he had to get a bowl cut for his movie he had been shooting in London for quite some time then. So the fact that his beautiful hair was still out of danger relieved Armie. He smiled.  
Timmy looked at Armie smiling at him and he laughed, shoving him in the arm.  
“Dude, what are you smiling about?”  
“Your hair. Its safe.” Timmy’s mouth dropped open in an O.  
“Right yeah! Not for long though. That stupid ass cut, I am gonna get that next week.” At that, he groaned.  
“I thought I was already enough of an alien with my lanky build and shit, but now, they are practically converting me into a creepy monster. Jesus Christ Armie, I am scared out of my fucking wits!”  
Armie chuckled, imagining Timmy in that bowl cut. He’d be a piece of cake.  
“Shouldn’t hurt considering you might win an Oscar soon!”  
Timmy wailed.  
“No, God, no! Lets not talk about that, shall we?” Timmy sighed and patted Armie’s closed one.  
His fist tightened.  
Armie calmed his breathing and asked, “How did you find out where I was staying? Above that, why are you at all in New York Tim? Is it safe to take a few days off? And—  
He couldn’t finish his next blabber sentence because he was suddenly englulfed in warmth. Timmy’s warmth.  
Timmy pressed his face into Armie’s neck and sighed. His hands wrapped around Armie’s nape, giving him hardly any space to breath.  
Well then, guess what, he didn’t want to breathe.  
Armie kept still for what felt like eternity, his back up against the head rest, legs bent at the knees, now tangled with Tim’s and his upper body flush against Tim’s. The only body part that was free were his hands. It felt like he didn’t know how to use them.  
Armie wanted to embrace him so bad, he was afraid he’d tumble over and land into the uncharted territory.  
Timmy wiggled in his arms and his lips pressed slightly against his pulse. “Hug me, please!” He moaned, his breath fanning over Armie’s cheek. His head fell back against the headrest with a thud and he let out a careful breath. His body was on fire.  
Timmy just kept on pressing closer.  
“Tim....”  
“Please!” He whispered in Armie’s ear. That was it. All the walls that Armie had cared to pull up around himself, no whatever how brittle they appeared to be, barely walls, he let them topple down and crash all around him.  
His vision went white.  
Hands pulled and grabbed, bodies moved and adjusted, postures changed and then there they were, in each others arms. 

 

Timmy lay on top of Armie, pinned against him as blood roared in his ears. It had been lifetimes since they were this close. Armie’s hands were wound tightly and yet not painfully around Timmy’s waist and his hair as he tried to get closer to him as humanly possible.  
“I missed you so fucking much!” Timmy cried out into his shoulder.  
Armie shivered and fiddled to get closer.  
“You have no idea Tim, no fucking idea...”  
“I know, I know....why do you think I am here?” Timmy murmered. Armie knew, should Timmy say anything more, he’d fall apart.  
He pulled himself together and said, “You...you didn’t have to do that Tim. I know I asked to come back to NY on twitter but you know that it was just a stupid joke. Now if you fall into some sort of trouble, ill never be able to forgive myself.”  
Timmy rose up, balanced himself through his elbows and looked down at Armie, his mouth pooled red.  
“First of all, you are responsible for nothing so get the guilt out of your brain. Second, I did ask for a two day off from our schedule and the producers agreed. Finally, I am not here because you randomly tweeted out a joke but because I wanted to see you. So much. I’d seen all those pictures of you at the Broadway press thing and... I don’t know...Armie, you..you looked different.”  
Armie had forgotten about Tim’s ability to see through him as if he were a piece of glass.  
“What..what do you mean?”  
Armie shifted which made Tim move out of his reach and in a moment, they were sitting at the opposite sides of the bed. Tim looked like he was about to cry. Armie must already have been crying.  
He knew nothing.  
“You just...looked tired and unhappy.”  
“What?”  
Armie pulled on his mask. A pantomime, as they say.  
“You don’t know what you are saying Tim. And the fact that you flew over continents to meet me just because you thought...thought I was unhappy is plain absurd. I am not unhappy Tim. In fact, I am on cloud nine. The rehearsals are going great. It’s a treat that you could come and now we can hang and all but that’s different. Everything is good Tim.” Armie smiled hard. So hard, his cheek muscles hurt from the applied pressure.  
Tim obviously didn’t get fooled.  
The kid had always been way too smart. But today, the smartness was scaring Armie.  
“Armie, I know we have not talked in ages and you must think that we aren’t as close now but you..you can talk to—  
“What the hell do you want me to talk to you about Timmy? Everything is perfect, I just told you didn’t I? Let me tell you something more. Liz is visiting next week with the kids and I..I couldn’t be anymore happier. I wish you could stay long enough to meet them but too bad...”  
Timmy rose up from the bed and walked away from Armie, towards the dimly lit balcony hidden by the multiple pieces of art.  
“Hey, Timmy!” Armie choked out, louder than required.  
Timmy stilled, his shoulders rose up and down as if in contemplation and then he turned around.  
The pantomime was packed and in full action now.  
“Yeah?” Timmy laughed. Armie felt a pang in his chest which turned into a faint burning sensation.  
“You.. you good, right?” Timmy smiled.  
“Yeah, man! I am really fucking happy. I was kind of worried earlier but guess what, I was wrong. And I couldn’t be anymore relieved. I am glad you are happy, dude.” His smiled went on brightening.  
Timmy walked to him and patted him playfully on the back.  
“Umm... can I use the washroom? I really need to get out of these stinky sweats.”  
“Sure. Treat yourself at home.”  
Timmy giggled and sauntered away. As soon as Armie heard the shower turned on, he pulled out a joint and a lighter from his suit pocket and walked out on the balcony. He lit the joint and smoked, Blowing out the white nothingness into the night sky. He was hyper aware of his surroundings since Timmy showed up. 

The urge to walk inside the bathroom and have him right there was so strong that Armie had to bend down, arms holding him on the knees, trying to blow the smoke out in the process.  
Timmy ambled out of the bathroom as steam rose off of it like white, gooey clouds in the clear sky on a hot summer day. He watched Armie’s profile hunched down before the railing for a few beating seconds and spoke, “Are you okay there buddy?”  
Armie startled back to life and jerked around to find Timmy gazing at him, with concern. He had put on some green t-shirt double his size and pyjama bottoms. His feet were bare. The hair settled like a weeping heap on his head, a few wet strands falling into his eyes as if to obscure his sight of Armie.  
“Yeah just smoking. Wanna join?” He kept it minimal.  
“Uhhh...I guess not! Think I’d better crash. I’ll take the couch.” Timmy shuffled back into the room and started rummaging through his bag for something.  
“What? No, you are not taking that couch. It’s not even a couch, for gods sake! You’ll fall off right on your ass before you realise it. There, we can share the bed. You can take the other side.” Armie trudged back into the room, rubbed the cigeratte into the ashtray on the bedside table and prepared to go to bed. Whereas, Timmy kept standing in the middle of the hotel room, his arms crossed against in his chest, looking pensive in a moment’s trail.  
“What’s up Timmy Tim?” Armie tried lightening the tension in the suffocating room.  
Timmy stared at him a beat too long, then spoke, “ I am sorry man for barging in out of nowhere. I think I just wanted to surprise you you and stuff but I guess, I probably ruined your entire night. Shit man, I feel pathetic. I swear, I’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning. God, I am such a scumbag!” He threw his hands over his face, trying to hide his embarrassment.  
Armie sighed.  
“Don’t be an asshole Tim. You know I am not bothered by this. At all. Now, come on, hop over before I actually decide to kick you out of here with my own giant hands.” At that, Timmy snickered and practically jumped onto the bed, slouched off the million covers and went home.  
Armie watched all this happen with a warmth in his heart that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He knew this was fleeting, it had to be. Thank god, Timmy hadn’t witnessed Armie’s vomit episode. It would have been enough to send him back to London.  
Timmy looked up at Armie and smiled from the other side of the bed. The distance between them seemed nothing less than an ocean.  
Ironic but true.  
“Good night!” Timmy rolled around, turned his back to Armie and dozed off.  
The lights in the room were finally shut off. Now, in the immense darkness did Armie let himself acknowledge the weight of his suffering. The moon glinted into the far end, like a sliver of peace in the chaos of Armie’s world.  
“Night.” He whispered into the eerie quiet, to no one. 

 

 

   
 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy comes to terms with what he wants.

Timothée couldn’t sleep. The jet lag was perpetrating cartwheels on his bones, almost viciously. He groaned in the dark from the sting in his temples.  
It was queer, he reckoned.  
Whenever he had a headache, the burn would originate in his temples and proceed thereafter to the scalp. Sometimes the headache got so worse that Timothée could quite literally feel the rugged twist of muscles under his skin, sending a ripple of white hot pain through him. The only way it couldn’t reach his soul was because of the chasm that existed between his body and his soul.  
But the pain Timmy felt right then besides the minor headache was way too much to not climb the inexplicable barriers of his soul. The pain pierced right through it. 

He didn’t want to cry when he was sleeping next to Armie. He had come all the way from London to New York just to meet him. As soon as he had stepped out of the Airport, there had been paparazzi all around ready to hunt him down with the conjoint flashes of cameras, vaguely familiar questions which surpassed the level of subtlety and brief moments of genuine appreciation he didn’t understand he deserved.  
Despite all the pandemonium, he had reached Armie’s hotel because he had been so desperate. So desperate. He had felt his breath hitch as soon as his eyes fell on a sleeping Armie, the door to his room unlocked and the bed lamp still lit. 

Armie looked exactly the way Timmy had feared he would. There were patches of black under his eyes, hair more brown than the blonde he owned, the crow feet next to his eyes shaped into wrinkles embedded into his perfect skin. Timmy didn’t have to put into account that Armie looked extremely broken and unhappy.  
He remembered seeing all those pictures on his social media and while he was quite enamoured by the outgrowth of Armie’s hair, it didn’t go to dead eyes that the light in his eyes was missing. Maybe he read way too much into everything, maybe it was simply because he cared so much for Armie that seeing him like this was nothing less than an axe to his heart or maybe he was just a dumbass bloke. 

Timmy could have accepted everything. The only thing he wasn’t ready to accept was the perfect fairy tale story Armie had just fed him. He thought he couldn’t read through him? Oh well, if that was the case, then Armie didn’t know Timmy at all. Timmy might not be able to tell if people were lying or not but with Armie, it was different. It was fucking different.  
It was the second time he had had his heart broken by the same person in less than two years. Wow, he thought he might as well be receiving an Oscar for all the charades he played around, so elegantly.  
Timmy was in the city for two days and he already couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. He decided that he would leave as soon as dawn hit, meet his parents, run a check through the city and head straight to the airport. Deep inside his heart, he knew that he should have stayed with Armie and basked in whatever happiness they could have given each other. He knew Armie was downright lying.  
He wasn’t intuitive or anything, he just knew. This was the most disheveled and wrecked he had seen Armie in a span of two years. 

Besides, of course he knew. After all, he was in love with Armie. 

The truth sent shivers down his spine and Timmy felt his eyes burn. Not that it mattered, anyway. He wouldn’t succumb to his weakness this time. He had to get out of New York also because he couldn’t see Elizabeth visiting as he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle not saying something crass to her about Armie hurting. However, he would have loved to meet the kids. But things had to be done. 

Timmy rose up from the bed, fished for his phone in the dark on the bedside table, unlocked it and pulled up Brian’s contact. He texted him to book a flight to London leaving in the evening the next day, typed out a thank you and shut it back. He was rummaging through the drawer for his phone’s charger when he felt the bed shift next to him. He stilled, wondering if he woke Armie up. After inserting the charger into the socket and plugging his phone, he turned around to look if Armie had indeed woken up. 

He hadn’t. Timmy shifted closer to him, trying to make as less sound as he humanely could and settled next to Armie with his right hand tucked under his chin, elbow holding his weight. He gazed down at Armie and a sigh of relief escaped his lips. Armie was lying on his back, hands resting loosely on his stomach, face turned towards Timmy, still silently snoring through his sleep.  
“I wish you’d tell me the truth.” He whispered, more to himself than to anyone or anything else in the room.  
“Can’t see you like this.” Tears stung his eyes and he inhaled sharply, sniffling through his nose, trying to repress the sorrow plaguing his bones.

Timmy, after thinking a gazillion times, brought his free hand towards Armie’s face and caressed the beard-clad cheek. His heart beat wildly inside his ribcage, breathing settling into pants as his caresses became touches. Timmy stared at Armie’s mouth, pink and plump, slightly parted as he exhaled air into the darkness surrounding the two, him on his back and Timmy on his side looking down at him with a sudden pool of desire bubbling in his stomach, a desire he had kept a lid on for so long. 

Without thinking twice, he bent and kissed Armie on the mouth. It was nothing more than a little peck, mere touch of lips but the effect it had on Timmy was something akin to an electric shock. But then Armie stirred in his sleep and that was it. Timmy knew he was doomed. Armie stirred some more and then, opened his eyes, clenched them shut and opened again in order to adjust to the darkness and felt a shadow looming over him. He realised that the shadow was no other than Timmy, an expression of sheer horror smeared all over his face. 

“Tim..What’s wrong?” He whispered, his head still cloudy with the remnants of sleep. He hadn’t  
slept like that in months.  
Timmy was frozen in his place. When he came back, he came back with a confidence he had never known existed inside him and before he knew it, his mouth was on Armie’s. He had expected a shriek, a slap or a punch to his face but what he hadn’t expected was the shot of lust that rushed to his groin as Armie gasped into his mouth.  
“Tim...” All practical sense had fled Timmy’s mind and all he wanted was Armie at that moment. Even if Armie remained pliant under him, not moving his lips but not pushing him away either. Timmy internally whined and thrashed, a spike of euphoria flushing his skin red. 

“Armie, please...” Timmy begged and ran his tongue along the seams of Armie’s closed mouth. Another gasp and his mouth slightly parted, enough to push his tongue all the way inside into the velvety warmth of the man under him.  
The sensation was so arousing that both of moaned simultaneously into others mouths’, Timmy sucking lightly on Armie’s upper lip. In less than a few seconds, Armie’s hands were grabbing at Timmy’s hair, pulling him down and crashing their mouths hard against each other. Timmy panted as the kiss turned fierce, all teeth and tongue, murmering lame obscenities into Armie’s mouth as he sucked lewdly on his tongue.  
“God, you taste so good...” Timmy moaned at the statement and started rutting his hard length against Armie’s thigh, looking for friction in order to get off. Armie pushed Timmy on his back and moved up on top of him, pulling him up to his mouth by the hair, the wet sounds of their kissing filling the darkness of the room, warming it, debauching it. 

As they pulled apart to suck in heaps of oxygen, Timmy wrapped his legs around Armie’s waist and rubbed his hardening member against Armie’s belly. Armie hissed at the feeling, bending down to plant wet kisses along his jaw, his earlobe which he sucked into his mouth until Timmy lay writhing under him begging Armie to fuck him right then.  
Armie had wanted this for so long that he couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu wracking his brain, as if they had done it before.  
Yeah sure, in his dreams they had.  
Armie was busy licking and nibbling Timmy’s neck, running his tongue along the Adam’s Apple while Timmy growled into the dark, his hands tugging wildly at Armie’s hair.  
“Armie, you have to stop...I am gonna come!” Armie stilled, the thought of Timmy coming undone in his arms suddenly so pleasurable that he had to literally bury his face into Timmy’s neck, trying to forget about the growing bulge in the front of his suit pants.  
“You little shit!” Timmy giggled like a kid and ran his hand over the small of Armie’s back. And then, he rolled them around until their positions were reversed, Armie on his back and Timmy straddling his muscular thighs.  
Armie stared at Timmy and realised he didn’t really have to do much as Timmy already looked consistently fucked. His hair was a mop over his eyes, eyes hooded with the pupils dilated to the length of drowning out all of the hazel. His lips looked like they had been ploughed.  
Timmy massaged Armie’s thighs, easing off tension that had thrived in his bones since ages. Armie sighed and ran his fingers over Timmy’s.  
“You are making things very difficult for me.” A smile crept up on Timmy’s mouth as recognition dawned over him.  
He leant down and kissed Armie on the cheek, then went ahead with unbuttoning his shirt. He had already had a view of his naked torso when he had walked in on him sleeping, now the only thing he wanted was to trace those gazes with his eager mouth.  
It wasn’t Timmy’s fault Armie converted him into a self-proclaimed slut.  
Armie resisted initially, looking up at Timmy carefully and with a tenderness he didn’t know existed.  
“We don’t have to do this Tim.”  
“We don’t have to. But I want to. Let me!” With that, Timmy managed to take off Armie’s shirt, him still dwelling under the onslaught of doubt.  
But then, Tim put his mouth on Armie’s freshly bared skin and all thoughts were banished from his mind.  
“Tim...” Armie moaned as Timmy licked the cleft between his collarbones, moving lower, lapping at the valley between his chest. Armie had gone feverish hot under him, skin flushed red from the treatment Tim was giving his body. Timmy moved to his perked up nipple and pulled it into his mouth and a strangled gasp tore through Armie, the sensation nothing less than a bunch of fireworks going off under his skin.  
Timmy sucked at his nipple, bit it gently and then Armie was pulling at his hair, scratching his nails on his scalp, manoeuvering his body south. Timmy wiped at the saliva coating his mouth and unzipped Armie’s fly. While doing so, he tongued his stomach which lurched under his touch.  
“Oh God, Tim...” Armie hissed out, eyes clenched shut, hands still entangled in Timmy’s hair, the friction sending wisps of molten lust to Timmy’s dick.  
Armie shimmied out of his pants and underwear through the help of the younger man above him and before he knew it, his hard, leaking member was buried to the hilt in Timmy’s mouth.  
“Fuck!” Armie shouted into the blackness of the room, rising up on his elbows to look down at Tim with his mouth filled with him. The view before him was too much. It was burned in his memory for the lifetime and Armie knew he was utterly, irrevocably ruined. 

Timmy moaned around the cock in his mouth and brought his free hand down to his own jeans, palming himself through the material while Armie continued to assault his hair. Timmy pulled out with a pop, a fresh stream of wetness running down his mouth and spoke, his voice gruff and throaty, “Do whatever you wish to with my hair. This is your only chance. I am not getting it back again!”  
Armie chuckled and went to say something but Timmy had already got back to his job. Again. Within no time, Armie was writhing and struggling under him. With a broken, staggering sob, he came into Timmy’s mouth while Timmy sucked him clean.  
He had been working himself too during the moment so it wasn’t long until he came too, soling his jeans, mouth dropping open into an inaudible moan.  
Armie pulled him up into his arms and kissed him gently on the mouth.  
“You are an enigma!”  
Timmy muttered something ambiguous and collapsed into Armie’s arms, breathing heavily, beads of perspiration dotting his forehead. 

“You okay?” Armie whispered gently into Timmy’s hair.  
“Haven’t been better.” Timmy murmered, fingers stroking patterns on Armie’s chest.  
“I am sorry I treated you the way I did, Timmy.”  
Timmy paused, then looked over at Armie, staring down at him with an expression of self-loathing only he was capable of mustering.  
“I just wanted you to tell me the truth. I just wanted you to know that I am here for you, despite anything and everything. I am here.”  
Because he was...he was there with Armie all through the dark channels of the world, the monotonous cliffhangers of life’s mortal days and the insanity of peoples’ actions.  
He immediately regretted the plan of leaving the next day for London and figured that he would, after all, stay with Armie while he could.  
“Armie?”  
“Yeah?”  
“You know I love you right?” A trembled whisper.  
Steady beats of silence.  
“Yes I do!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for wasting your time reading this. Haha.  
> You can press kudos if you wish to. Ciao!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a contribution to my very first(possibly the only one) fandom because I just can’t with these two ugh! Also, the next chapter(the last one) has stuff! Ahem, ahem..  
> This is completely a work of fiction, none of this happened, ever.  
> English is not my first language, please don’t sue me.  
> It’d be lovely to read your comments.


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